


Kintsukuroi

by Coasilous03



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Fellswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrorswap (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), BittyBones, Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), F/F, F/M, I had writer's block with my main story, I would love suggestions on oneshot ideas, M/M, Makeouts, Multi, So this is my solution, getting into some dubious content, hs!paps is freakin' t a l l, it's almost porn but not quite, oh christ on crackers i never thought i'd use THAT tag, oneshots, there are so many cute ideas for these fools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coasilous03/pseuds/Coasilous03
Summary: Kintsukurio (n.) - "to repair with gold"; the art of repairing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer, and understanding that the item is more beautiful after having been broken.
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51





	1. Discount Merchandise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You visit a bitty adoption center at the suggestion of a friend, but are appalled at how the tiny creatures are treated.

The city was loud this time of day. Cars passed and people droned along the sidewalk, each filled with their own innate purpose. They were busy, in their own minds, with their own days- it was no wonder none of them noticed you, standing still in front of a small shop. 

Blearily, you squinted at its glass doors, then back down at your phone. This couldn't be the place.

You looked back up. It didn't look anything like a pet store. It looked like a gas station, with fluorescent lights overhead and bleak white tile floors. It looked more like something you'd see in a dentist-themed fever dream.

For the hundredth time, you were second-guessing your decision. You should just go home.

An old friend of yours, concerned with the fact that you lived alone, suggested you get some sort of pet to keep you busy. She quickly sent you the address for this "exotic" pet store, praising the odd creatures it advertised. Off-handedly, she had advised you to visit it with a full wallet.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. You wanted to get this over with before you managed to talk yourself out of it. The neon sign flickered a little as you pushed through the double-doors.

"Bit-by-Bit Adoption Center for Bitties".

The bell rang, and you noticed for the first time a grouping of pens situated by the front windows. Dozens of tiny creatures went about their tiny business, moving in-and-out small houses and interacting with each other as humans would. A few of them waved and greeted you with bright eyes. Some of them were skeletons, but there were a few flame bitties, some bipedal dogs and bunnies, and even an adorably dressed spider girl perched in a hammock. 

An employee ahead of you greeted you in a high voice. "Welcome to Bit-by-Bit! You seem to be a new face; are you here for adoption or just window-shopping for today?" The woman at the counter had short blonde hair and a round face. She looked young, but not too young. You gave a half-hearted smile.

"I'm considering adoption. I kinda wanna learn more about bitties before I make any serious decisions," you said with a shrug.

She nodded, moving from behind the counter. You realized then that, besides a couple in the back, you were the only customer in the store. "I'd be happy to answer all your questions. Follow me- I'll show you around!"

She first led you to a wall of shelves, full of wide metal cages. Each held various numbers of bitties- about half were packed with such a large amount that it couldn't have been comfortable for them. Nonetheless, most of them wrapped their tiny hands around the bars and peered out at you.

"Bitties come in a variety of different species, and we house almost all of them here at the adoption clinic. While they're not very intelligent, they're fun pets for more daring people," she said, "and some of them even try to mimic human words and actions, like parrots!" The intelligence comment irked you, but you said nothing. "The unfortunate downside is that they get emotionally attached very easily. While they are fairly small, they have all the same magic of a monster, making their souls very loud and strong."

She scratched her chin in thought. "There have been a few studies about whether or not bitties rely on an emotional connection to survive, but there isn't enough information to prove anything."

A bitty with bright blue eyes reached out for the worker, and she swatted its hand away like one would an insect. "Fortunately, we do offer soul blockers if you need them. The surgery is a bit costly, but it's worth it to keep them from pestering you for attention constantly."

You decided, right then and there, that you despised this woman.

"This is where we keep the bulk of our stock," she gestured to the packed cages, "while the best of the lot go out front. Not only do they attract customers, but they're the most likely to get adopted. These aren't as great, so they're a lower price."

She moved on towards the pens in the front, and you watched as many of the bitties sent glares at her back. At least you're not the only one who doesn't like her. A taller bitty with gold fangs met your gaze and you waved. He stared at you for a moment before flipping you off.

"Now, over here, our finest bitties get front-and-center." She led your attention to the pens at the front door, where bitties moved around happily. You noticed that there weren't nearly as many skeletons as you just saw in the cages.

"Uh, there aren't very many skeleton bitties. I thought they were the most common?" you asked. She nodded.

"You're right; they are. But we like to put our more exotic merchandise up front. They attract more customers. There are a few more rare skeleton bitties in this bunch, too." She searched the pen for a moment, before reaching in. She pulled up a sharply-dressed skeleton bitty with red boots and a matching scarf, holding him by the back of his shirt. He struggled for a moment, before huffing and crossing his arms. Three scars ran down his left eye.

"Like this, for instance, is a rare Cappy bitty. They're especially hard to breed, but they're worth a pretty penny. This one's been with us for four days, but it'll probably be adopted by the end of the week. It's quite the collecter's item," she chuckled.

The bitty started to wriggle, and the cashier unceremoniously dropped him. You gasped as he fell to the floor, hitting his head. He sat up, rubbed at his forehead, before glaring at the woman. She gave you a curious look before smiling it off. "Oh, don't worry. They can't _really_ feel anything. Now, on to our bitty supplies."

She led you through various isles, where miniature clothes and furniture lined the shelves. They were adorably doll-sized, and you held yourself back from cooing at the tiny bitty socks. The cashier noticed your interest. "Lots of bitty owners like dressing up their bitties. Often, they compare it to playing with dolls. Endearing, isn't it?"

Suddenly, the clothes weren't as cute.

The couple that was towards the back walked off towards the pens, giving you a clear view of a few dark cages lining a wall next to a supply closet. You asked the cashier about it, but she didn't seem to keen on showing you them.

"Oh, they're just some bottom-of-the-barrel items. Most of them are returns or rescues- they're always our cheapest so we can clear them out as quickly as possible." She leaned in like she was sharing secret advice. "Honestly, I say we should just toss them, but we need all the money we can get. Even if they're scruffy, bitties are expensive"

You felt sick to your stomach, both at her words and the idea of what was in those cages, but your feet carried you towards them anyways. The cashier walked after you.

Each cage held one or two bitties, all in various stages of disrepair. Towards the bottom, a skeleton in a dirty orange hoodie held onto a smaller Baby Blue, glaring at you fiercely. Closer to the top, an unusually tall skeleton with crooked teeth stared at you with small, beady eyes. Below him was a spider bitty with a couple of her arms missing, curled up in a corner.

The woman sidled up next to you, and you wanted to whip around and sock her in the jaw. "See? Like I said, not even worth it."

Closer to the right, an odd-looking Baby Blue peaked his head out. Every time he blinked, his eye-color changed, and various stains on him made it look like someone had scribbled on him with colorful markers. An impossibly small black hand with red and yellow fingertips clapped over his skull and pulled him back in. 

"Now, why don't we head over to-"

"Actually, I'd like to know more about these ones," you interrupted. What were you doing? Your mind yelled. Just looking at them makes you queasy, why would you want to know more?

The woman was silent for a second, before sighing. "A few are feral bitties that were captured and delivered here, like these two." She pointed to the two skeletons huddled at the bottom of the shelf. The orange-clad bitty growled.

She reached for the bars and he snapped his teeth at her hand. "don't fuckin' touch us."

The woman pulled her hand back, wiped it on her apron, and continued. "Others were born with birth defects or were damaged by previous owners, like that one up there." She pointed to the tall one on the top shelf with the crooked teeth, who smiled warmly and waved. 

The woman sneered slightly. "He used to be so much better looking, too. What a waste." The skeleton's smile fell, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

"And lastly, those with behavioral defects. While some bitties are expected to be a bit loud, anything irritating or annoying ruins the purpose. Take, for example, something like-"

She was interrupted by a pair of hands emerging from the middlemost cage and rattling the bars as a head poked out. He had a round face with bright red eyes, sharp teeth, and a set of twin scars that ran over one eye socket.

"YOU?" he supplied, his voice high and grating. "YADA, YADA, WE'RE ALL TRASH, WE KNOW. YOU TELL US JUST ABOUT- OH, LET ME THINK- EVERY DAY. AND I'LL ASK YOU, LIKE I ASK EVERY DAY: WHERE IN THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU KEEPING MY BROTHER?"

She stared at him for a moment, before striking the bars of the cage with the back of her hand. The bitty yelped and fell back, before scrambling for the back of the cage. "Well, you get the idea."

She looked back out to the counter, where the couple stood, watching you two. "It seems like there are some customers ready for checkout. If you need anything, I'll be at the counter!"

And with a wave, she was gone.

You turned back to the dark cages, where various eyes peered out at you. Some were suspicious, some were hopeful, and some were malicious.

You really, really should have just gone home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's me. You might be thinking "Oh, this damn clown who hasn't posted on her main story in two months just posted two new one-shots in the span of an hour!" and yes, this clown says you're right. I got hit with a MAJOR case of writer's block, and haven't touched my laptop since late June. So these are my solutions. I'm hoping that by writing less involved short-stories, I can get back into my writing groove. Don't worry, I've got a plan for the next couple chapters of To Paint a Picture (which is my main story, if you're not aware), and chapter 34 is in the works and should be published by the end of the week! Thanks for being so patient, ya'll are the best :)


	2. The Mall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans forces himself to go to the mall. Not the best place for someone as detached as him

Sans slowly, heavily sat down in the metal chair, his thick blue jacket rustling and folding. So many things were happening around him that he just couldn't seem to focus on- hundreds of footsteps, thousands of voices, so many lights and sounds. 

Every instinct he had, the instincts he spent years honing deep underground, were telling him he _couldn't_ be here right now. That he needed to run, hide, to defend himself.

He remembered the single hotdog, still in its little paper tray, clutched in his hands and stared down at it.

He hated going to the mall. So many people doing such unimportant things with the idea that they mattered, laughing and eating and wasting so much. They were all so defenseless, so unbothered and open.

Sans chuckled darkly, humorlessly. The underground would happily _eat them alive._

Oh so carefully, he took a large bite of the 'dog. His tastebuds, dulled from so much raw, rotten food over the years, barely picked up on the sweet, savory meat. It was a mediocre taste at best, and it wasn't even that big. 

He used to love 'dogs, back when he ran his little stand. He was carefree, back then. Lazy and happy. He never thought that he'd be forced to hunt after any inkling of life like a rabid dog just to make sure he and his brother lasted another day. 

He didn't even hunt this meat. It was bought from a human he didn't know at a food court. He didn't trust it.

Yet he ate anyways. 

He ate it all, picked the crumbs out of the wrapper, and licked his chops before standing. He placed the trash in the bin as he walked by it.

As he walked past the walls of people, he wracked his broken mind for the reason he was even here. He detested such wide, crowded spaces- so few places to hide and so many risks he hated taking. Almost all of them were humans- any monsters gave Sans a wide berth once they realized it was him.

He didn't fault them. He was the Butcher, he was the Judge; if he had knocked at any of their doors, it was either to deliver them food or dust them.

He didn't fault them. He hated what he did just as much as they did.

The stores passed by slowly, their themes clashing with each other. In their entrances, books and shoes and clothes-

That was it! Clothes. Sans remembered now- Papyrus had asked him to go out and buy him a shirt from one of his favorite t.v. shows. Sans had asked why he couldn't do it himself, and Papyrus had told him he needed the "social interaction."

Sans huffed. His brother was always concerned about his well-being. He was just so cool.

The shop Papyrus usually visited came into view, and Sans thanked the stars it wasn't too busy. A girl an incredibly odd haircut manned the register, but she barely looked up from her magazine to greet him as she walked in. The store had multi-colored lights and dark walls, where neon shirts hung on clothing racks.

He quickly spotted the shirt towards the back- it was a jarring acid green with black and magenta text. It hurt his sockets just looking at it, so he knew it was perfect for his brother. Wordlessly, he yanked the shirt from the rack and sauntered to the counter, standing behind a couple who were none the wiser to his frightening presence.

He must have zoned out for a minute, because he was jarred by someone behind him. "Excuse me?" came a meek voice. Slowly, Sans turned his head, blearily aware of his size as he shifted his gaze down.

You stood no taller than his ribcage, wringing your hands together. You seemed too timid to meet his gaze. "Can I get past you real quick?" You pointed ahead of him to a shelf of jewelry that, sure enough, he was blocking you from reaching. He turned back to you and was silent for a long moment as he took you in. To his amusement, your face went redder with each second.

Finally, you met his gaze, and something about your eyes made his chest tighten. You were adorable- how did they make humans so cute?

Wordlessly, he stepped to the side. You sent him a small smile that made his soul leap into his throat, and you shuffled past him. He had to tear his gaze from your retreated form, instead looking to the cashier. She had a knowing smile as she rang him up, accepting his money and offering the receipt.

He shuffled off, passing more jarring colors and odd clothes, but turned once he was at the entrance. You caught his gaze, hands full of colorful necklaces, and offered a timid smile and a wave.

Huh, he mused, jerkily waving back. Maybe the mall isn't that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just watched season three of Stranger Things and BOY was it rich


	3. Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While waiting for his brother to finish some (probably incredibly deadly) puzzle, you elect to talk to Papyrus at his sentry station. It doesn't go as planned.

Your footsteps crunched in the grainy snow, the cold seeping into your shoes. They were already wet, slightly scuffed and very uncomfortable, but you weren't one to complain. The wind howled between the trees, blowing harshly in your face. 

And up ahead, with a blanket of frost on its old rickety roof, sat a dirty brown wooden stand with deep scratches on its front, as if it had been attacked many times. It barely stood out against the dark, dry pine trees.

The younger of the two skeletons, Papyrus, sat in it with his head in his arms. His spine bent at an uncomfortable angle, but he seemed to be sleeping. From how his head was tilted, you had a full view of the large, gaping crack on the side of his skull. A long blade with a serrated edge sat on the table next to him.

You knew his brother was up ahead, preparing a puzzle that would more than likely hurt you in some way, so you decided to dawdle and talk to the taller of the two.

He didn't stir as you walked up to him, and you wondered how you'd wake him without startling him so much you'd lose a limb. You'd need something loud and not _you_ to wake him.

As if on cue, Sans yelled from up ahead. "HUMAN!" he called, his naturally lower voice straining and cracking from his obvious mouth issues and extreme volume. "WHY DON'T YOU TALK TO MY BROTHER A LITTLE BIT WHILE I PREPARE THIS NEXT PUZZLE? IT SEEMS I'VE... OVER-ESTIMATED MY OWN SKILLS, AND I NEED TO RETHINK THINGS."

Papyrus stirred, tilting his head up enough to open his working eye, peering at you. It was so bright and scrutinizing, watching your every move like a bird of prey. "hey... there's the humanitarian," he greeted, his drawling words rolling like a slow current.

You flinched. You immediately regretted eating one of San's tacos. You had almost vomited when a single eyeball had rolled from the shell onto the snow at your feet. 

"yeah, my bro told me what you did. honestly... i'd be impressed if i wasn't disgusted. you, uh..." he looked away for a moment, towards his brother who was yards away, crouched in the snow. "you're... pretty sick, you know?"

You whimpered, but chose to bite your tongue. You still couldn't stop thinking about how good the food was, despite its ingredients. He picked up on your hesitance. "ashamed, huh? yeah... i would be, too. heh- to be honest, if i were you... i'd have socked him and ran. you know as much as i do that you don't wanna be around us... you're obviously scared."

He raised his head up to stare you down, his arm jostling the long blade sat on the stand's counter. "i'd kill us all, if i were in your shoes... you know you could. you're _human_... you're stronger than us... so why don't you?"

Papyrus's eye light, pulsing and red and so, so bright, was trained on you. This was obviously a test, but was there even a right answer? You looked past him, your dread growing as you realized Sans had left. It was just you and him.

What should you do? Run? Refuse to answer? Suck up to him and try to appease his cracked, maniac psyche?

Or maybe, you interjected, you'd be honest. If he didn't like your answer he'd kill you. You'd feed him and his brother and you wouldn't have to deal with this awful place. If he did, he'd let you go, and you know you were in the right state of mind to keep fighting. You'd know you were fighting for the right reason. You'd be satisfied knowing you had the moral high ground.

"You're surviving," you stated simply, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "You're surviving and you're helping your community survive. I'd be an asshole to judge you on what you do to stay fed and alive."

The silence that followed was deafening, blanket by the howling winds and the sounds of the forest. His eye expanded and contracted a few times in his socket before he closed it, sighing. 

"so... that's what you think, huh? you're just gonna... roll with whatever shit we give you? that's hilarious," he lamented, no humor in his voice. Then he lifted a hand and gestured you over with two long phalanges. "c' mere. i wanna get a good look at ya. only got one eye to do it with, and it's... not on that side."

Oh god, he was gonna kill you. Your feet had a mind of their own as they took one heavy step after another. You stopped right in front of the old station, staring up at him. He was so, so tall-- even sitting, he had two feet on you. You knew he was even taller than that. You noticed that the pillars holding up the roof had been hastily altered to accommodate his incredible height.

As his socket fluttered open to stare down at you, the shadow of the roof cast over his face made his incarnadine pupil glow. He titled his head slightly, his fingers beginning to drum a low, sharp beat on the wood. 

"hmm," he hummed, studying you. "you're... a pretty little thing, ain't ya? so small, too. are all humans... as tiny as you?" He let out a short, deep chuckle that rumbled in his chest. You took a second to register his question, then shrugged.

He lifted a hand and you flinched away, watching it sluggishly lift up to your face. You anticipated it shooting to your neck or grabbing at your jaw, so you blinked in surprise when it settled against your cheek. His red pupil expanded at the feeling of your skin, your gaze trailing from his hand, up the sleeve of his torn orange hoodie, and to his face.

"so warm-- so _soft_. i've never really touched a human unless i was..." he trailed off, then shrugged. "well... you know."

You could make a few guesses.

His thumb idly pressed into the flesh of your face, stroking beneath your eye. He pulled down slightly, dragging your lower eyelid so he could see your eye better. "i always liked these. so... bright and shiny. don't suppose mine looks... anything like that, huh?"

His red pupil contracted, and you spoke before thinking. "Yours is nice, too."

His hand tightened a little and the wine-colored circle expanded to fill his socket. He was silent for a long moment.

Papyrus's hand fell down a little to settle by your neck. He shifted slightly in the chair. You gulped.

His other arm shot out to latch on to your waist while his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your scream. He stood, his upper body leaning out of the station, and you could see how his spine bent forwards in a very painful manner. In a surprising show of strength, he pulled you over the counter and into the sentry station.

The first thing that hit you was the smell. It was almost sickly-sweet inside, with the faint residue of smoke barely detectable but adding a savory twist, all intertwined with the scent of sweat and blood. 

He tugged you down so you were sat between his legs on the chair, your back to his chest, and let go of your mouth to flick a switch right at the opening he had just pulled you from. A cover clattered shut, leaving you locked inside with Papyrus behind you, surrounded in darkness.

Your chest was tight, your eyes wide. You knew better than to struggle against the arms holding you down.

"now look what i just got me," Papyrus purred, letting his hand slide under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. His eye lit up the dark space, casting a red glow over you. "that expression... you're terrified, aren't you? how cute."

You cowered, jerking your head away to stare down at the floor. He growled low above you and wrenched your face to the side as he leaned close to you. You stared him dead on, taking in every crack of his porcelain bone and the way the jagged hole in his skull seemed to crackle with magic.

"tell me, human. don't you... like what you see?"

You gulped, once again made aware of how unstable he was. There was no right or wrong answer-- not obviously so. It was all a matter of what he wanted you to say. You could die right now. Hell, you felt dead already.

So instead you reached out, so, so slowly, and mirrored his earlier action by resting your hand on the underside of his jaw. His red eye grew out again to fill his socket like a drop of red in black, inky water. He sucked in a breath and held it as you gently slid your hand up his face to cup his cheek. Swallowing your nerves, swallowing every instinct telling you to run and struggle, you gave a small smile.

"I do."

Lowly, quietly, a purr started up in his chest. He peered down at you, the arm circling your waist moving down towards your thigh. He pressed his face into your hand, closing his eye, and you could have cried from fear, confusion, and the relief that you had done the right thing.

"mnn... you really know how to make a man feel special... don't ya?" he rumbled. You hand moved with his head as he hunched over and ducked it down, resting his head on your shoulder. "so warm... _fuck_ , human..."

His skull tilted up slightly, his mouth to your ear, and you could smell tobacco and metallic blood on his dirty jacket. "...'m not in the mood for killin' ya," he said, relieving you slightly. "...but i still wanna eat you up, tiny." His arm shifted to curl around the girth of your hips, fingers twitching to your pants' zipper. Your thighs instinctively pressed together, and a twinge of heat curled with the pool of dread in your stomach. His amused chuckle rumbled in your ear, and you whimpered when you felt his teeth graze your neck.

"you want it too, don't ya?" He groaned. "i can see it-- can you? warm... and moaning and _pounding_... we're all alone, you know," he hummed. With each word, your imagination got clearer. A huge body curled over yours, panting and whining, groaning over the wet sound of him rutting into you as you were pressed against the far wall, eyes pulled shut in bliss.

Your face went bright pink at the image and he looked pleased, pressing his mouth into the side of your face. "oh, that's a nice color. so you can imagine it?" His hands both moved to grip your waist, massaging the flesh of your hips. Your hand on his cheek moved to his neck as you whined. 

"i'm imagining it, too... and, honestly, i'm not known for my... self-control," he admitted, his mouth moving against your cheek. "do you want me?"

You were ashamed the first word to come to your mind wasn't "no". If you did say no, however, he wouldn't be opposed to killing you. With the added effect of the heat coiling in your stomach, you knew you'd go through with it. It's not as if you've never wondered what it would be like to fuck a monster.

So you moaned breathily, turning around in his lap completely to throw your legs over his, straddling him, and leaning your head to the side. He was silent for a second before giving a full-body shudder, his fingers digging into the meat of your hips. "you... mmn, you really wanna press my buttons, don't ya?"

Gripping your thighs, he lifted you up out of his lap and set you on the counter, pressing your back to the metal sheet. He loomed over you, his eye shining bright and his face an odd shade of orange, like his skull was glowing. Was that his form of a blush?

"human," he growled, watching your lips part. "i've... wanted to do this... since i first saw you stumble outta that door. see you like this. have you... all to myself."

He leaned in, resting his mouth against the crook of your neck, and inhaled deeply. You could hear his magic buzzing at the hole in his skull. "and you smell like heaven... so sweet and delicious."

He growled, less in anger and more in some animalistic, predatory urge, opening his teeth to scrape them against your shoulder. "i'm gonna fuck you up, human," he grunted, lost in himself. "i'm gonna fuckin' ruin you, and you won't ever forget me."

You panted and whined, tilting your head to the side to give him better access, slinging both arms around his neck. He chuckled, then you felt something long, wet and almost static-y along your neck. You pulled back. "W-what was that?"

He pulled away, and a long, thick tongue was hanging from his mouth. It was a blood orange, glowing softly like his face. He drug it across his teeth, looking at you with an amused glint in his eye. "what? ...cat got your tongue?"

Your eyes widened as he leaned in and licked a stripe of saliva up your cheek before leveling at your ear. "don't worry, sweetness. i'll... make sure and put it to good use." Then he was back at your neck, licking long trails before scraping at the skin with his canines. His hands pawed at your hips, eventually getting between them. His sharp fingertips ghosted along your inner thighs.

"Please," you begged, your fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie. "Please, Papyrus."

He grabbed your chin and tilted his head, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It tasted sweet and metallic, writhing and wrapping around your own tongue. You moaned as he explored your mouth, using his hand to angle your head so he could access it better. You shuddered and he chuckled into your mouth, before pulling away, staring down at you.

"...just like i thought," he mused, and you cocked your head. He leaned back in, his eye socket slipping shut.

"...was just thinkin'," he explained, before stealing another kiss, pulling back slightly to murmur against your lips.

"you're sweeter than anything else i've ever tasted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll have no idea how close this was to being full-fledged porn. While I have written nsfw before (I'm a sinner and an author, what do you expect?) it'll take a long time for me to grow a pair and post any. So here ya go. Tbh I don't really see any horrorswap stuff and I've got a huge crush on any and all swap!papyruses so i truly couldn't resist >:3 also this is the longest thing I've written in one go in a while and of course it's semi-smut

**Author's Note:**

> For any fanart, questions or comments, my tumblr is @coasilous03!


End file.
